Worth More Than Riches
by Shieldmaiden3
Summary: Éomer teaches Gimli that riding horses turns 'I wish' into 'I can'... **Complete**
1. Chapter One

Authors Note: Before anyone asks just what I think I'm doing, let's just say that I have absolutely no idea. Anyway, this story is set a couple of years after the War of the Ring, and is set in Rohan. So, I'm not going to beg for reviews in any way. If you like my story, I hope that you will review, and leave constructive comments which I trust that you will have. If you detest my story and wish that I would go to hell and burn slowly and painfully, then please don't tell me so. I believe that that will happen anyway without you wishing it upon me also.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings, Gimli, Legolas, Éomer, Rohan, or anything else recognisable from Tolkien's work. They all belong to him. He is God. I do, however, own Torfi, which is an old Norse name, and since the Rohirrim are rather Nordic people, and so are Dwarves, I thought the name would be good for that character, who I am rather fond of.  
  
*************  
  
The sight of that pony did something to me I've never quite been able to explain. He was more than tremendous strength and speed and beauty of motion. He set me dreaming...  
  
~Walt Morey~  
  
*************  
  
"Éomer, I do not think that this is a good idea."  
  
"Legolas, the best thing for one's fears is to overcome them! Avoiding the object of one's fear only makes it worse when confronted with it!" Éomer proclaimed enthusiastically, spreading his arms wide to emphasise his point. Legolas merely shook his nut-brown hair, staring into his wine.  
  
"It's not as if he *does* avoid his fears, though. He rides upon Arod and Firefoot, does he not?"  
  
"Aye, but never alone!"  
  
"Éomer, I believe it is a tremendous achievement that he is willing and happy to ride behind either you or myself. I do not think it right to force him to do something he is not happy with. Besides, he is happy around the horses now more-or-less."  
  
"Legolas, I will not force him if it is too much. But I have the steadiest, safest pony you could possibly wish for." Éomer paused at the relieved look on Legolas's face. "You did not possibly believe that I would make him ride upon one of our war-horses?" The horse-lord let out a shout of laughter at Legolas's sheepish nod, before turning away.  
  
"I am not quite as cruel as all that. I will retire for the night, I think. Good wishes, Legolas."  
  
"Farewell and good sleep, Éomer King."  
  
The Elf watched Éomer leave the hall where they had been talking. A few Rohirrim still lingered, talking casually among themselves. Legolas drained his wine, and set the wooden goblet down on the table, before taking his own leave.  
  
He reached his own quarters which he shared with Gimli, and let himself in quietly. The dwarf was asleep, curled on his side. The window above his bed was open, and a warm breeze filtered through, every now and again stirring his red hair. Legolas sat on his own bed on the other side of the room, watching his sleeping friend, lost in the realms of mortal sleep. What did he dream about, Legolas wondered: the past? The future? Things that would never be? Whatever it was he dreamt of, Legolas knew for certain that it would have nothing to do with the horrors Éomer had in store for him on the morrow.  
  
Legolas watched Gimli for a long while; it could have been hours, he did not know. Until eventually the wonders of Elven sleep took him, and he drifted to paradise.  
  
*************  
  
"Legolas, you are being strangely quiet. Are you ill?"  
  
"Nay."  
  
"Then why do you not sing? Not that I am unhappy to be rid of that confounded habit, but it is worrying."  
  
"It is nothing. Do not worry, Gimli. I-I merely have much on my mind this morning."  
  
Gimli grunted in response to that, obviously happy with Legolas's answer. It was a bright morning in Edoras, the brightest there had been for a while; the sun was newly risen, and the sunlight was young and soft, spreading over the fields of Rohan, which stretched away into the distance like a rippling green sea. The rooves of houses and stables were stained a new, fresh copper colour, and the Golden Hall of Meduseld shone with astounding, simplistic beauty. It was altogether a perfect morning, yet for once Legolas did not see it. He did not know why he felt such dread, but he felt that Éomer was not taking what he was about to do seriously enough.  
  
When they were guests in Edoras, Legolas and Gimli both took it upon themselves to help as much as they could in the stables. Both Elf and Man had been surprised at how much Gimli actually knew when he tried; he had informed them that the dwarves of the Lonely Mountain had ponies for mining work, and to be used for trading. Gimli was a craftsman first and foremost, but he was one of the few dwarves who enjoyed being above ground, so he traded fairly often also. He did not ride, as a rule, so he traded around the area of Erebor and Lake-Town, having only a pack-pony to help with the goods he was taking there and back. This meant that he actually knew a decent amount of horse-care, though he tended to just get on with what he was doing and not let on what he knew.  
  
The pair reached the royal stable block, where the horses of the King and higher ranking Rohhirim were kept. During the stays of Legolas and Gimli, Arod was stabled there also. It was the only block where there were lose- boxes, as opposed to stalls. As a way of making sure every horse in Edoras was adequately cared for, each Rider was to look after his own horse, tack and stable. The spare horses (the ones kept in case of an accident or a horse going lame, or something of the like) were looked after by grooms, employed from the city just for that purpose. It was an efficient system, and was rarely let-down.  
  
Éomer was already present, and his horse, Firefoot, was tied outside of his stable, and the King of Rohan was vigorously brushing the stallion's sleek muscled neck. He looked up as the two entered, and smiled.  
  
"Good morning! I hope you are both well?"  
  
Elf and Dwarf replied that yes, thankyou, they were both well, and gave short bows. Legolas went to Arod's stable, and the tall grey horse looked over his door, knickering a greeting to his master. Legolas fondled his great head, murmuring softly to him in the graceful Elven tongue. Looking over the well built barn, Legolas spotted movement in the stable next to Arod, which was usually reserved for mares in foal. He frowned slightly; it was not yet the breeding season, and none of Éomer's mares were ready for foaling as of yet. He bid Arod patience, and stepped over to make sure his suspiscions were correct.  
  
They were.  
  
Glancing over to Gimli, Legolas saw that his friend was talking comfortably with Éomer, and brushing out Firefoot's long silken tail. Satisfied that Gimli need not know just yet, Legolas looked back into the stable.  
  
Standing, gazing at him with large dark eyes, was a little pony. Unlike most of the animals in Rohan, he was not grey, but a nut brown colour, with a thick black fly-away mane and tail. His face was split by an off-centre blaze, and his ears were overly-large; they were pricked as he watched Legolas with intense interest. Slowly, Legolas extended his arm over the wooden half-door toward the pony, who stepped forward, eyes bright with curiosity. He sniffed Legolas's palm, then nuzzled it, obviously looking for food.  
  
With a smile, Legolas turned his head, but still gently stroking the pony's face. "Éomer? What is this lad doing in here?"  
  
A pause. "Oh. Well..."  
  
"Who?" Gimli asked, dropping his brush into Éomer's grooming bucket and crossing over to where Legolas stood. Gimli looked over the door, and stared.  
  
"What did you do, Éomer? Leave him in the rain?"  
  
"No. His name is Torfi. He belonged to Éowyn once, but he's an old fellow now. Just needs someone to look after him. He largely has nothing to do nowadays, and he gets bored." The Horse-Lord joined the two friends at Torfi's door, who looked puzzled yet pleased to have such an audience, and pushed forward so his head came between Legolas and Gimli. Arod, disgusted with being neglected for that little ragamuffin, began kicking against his door in indignation. Legolas immediately crossed over to his horse, and began fussing him dreadfully.  
  
"What is he in the royal block for?" Gimli asked.  
  
"I-" Éomer broked off, not entirely sure how to break his idea to the notoriously obstinate Dwarf. He looked over at Legolas, who ignored him, obviously a way of saying 'this was your idea, you sort it out' and continued to rub Arod's ears.  
  
"I-I-I'm... I'm giving him to you, Gimli." Éomer said very quickly, after a long pause. There was a silence, in which Legolas shut his eyes, leaning his cheek against Arod's mane, and Éomer began pulling his fingers through his blonde hair. Gimli stood, watching the little pony for those moments, Torfi merely looked back at him. Then, slowly, his hand visibly shaking, he reached out and touched the pony's velvet muzzle. The old pony obviously sensed Gimli's nervousness, and leant against his hand, stepping as close as he could in an attempt to comfort him.  
  
"To me?" Gimli asked eventually.  
  
"Yes." Éomer replied, hope and disbelief fighting for dominance in his tone. Another pause. Legolas looked over at Gimli, who did not look angry, scared, confused, or any other way Legolas would have thought he would look. Instead he looked thoughtful, though apparently more confident by the way he was stroking the face of his newest acquisition.  
  
"Thankyou."  
  
*************  
  
End of chapter one. I know it is rather dull insofar, but I hope it will get better, If you liked it, please review, if you thought it was alright, but could do with improving, please review and tell me how, if you hated it and think it's the worst thing you've ever read, there's not point in reviewing. If no one wants me to write another chapter, tough. It's coming when I next have time and, shock horror, Gimli realises just what Éomer has in store for him... 


	2. Chapter Two

Authors Note: Before anyone asks just what I think I'm doing, let's just say that I have absolutely no idea. Anyway, this story is set a couple of years after the War of the Ring, and is set in Rohan. So, I'm not going to beg for reviews in any way. If you like my story, I hope that you will review, and leave constructive comments which I trust that you will have. If you detest my story and wish that I would go to hell and burn slowly and painfully, then please don't tell me so. I believe that that will happen anyway without you wishing it upon me also.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings, Gimli, Legolas, Éomer, Rohan, or anything else recognisable from Tolkien's work. They all belong to him. He is God. I do, however, own Torfi, which is an old Norse name, and since the Rohirrim are rather Nordic people, and so are Dwarves, I thought the name would be good for that character, who I am rather fond of.  
  
Thankyou for my reviews!  
  
Dot: Grammar mistakes fixed (I hope) thankyou very very much for pointing that out, and I'm glad you like my story.  
  
Dís: Thankyou for reviewing- Torfi is going to have a pretty prominent role in later chapters so I hope you keep reading.  
  
E.N: I'm glad you picked up on the equine personalities! I am a firm believer in horses having unique personalities.  
  
Smushed Pea: Great pen name! And yes, I have read Shy Boy. It's a wonderful book, though I am more moved by The Man Who Listens To Horses (I cry everytime when Ginger is taken away).  
  
JoyJoy: Glad you liked it. Cute, eh? Never thought that word would be used in context with my story. Thanks!  
  
The kid mdd: You like Éomer too? He is the most amazing person ever ever! (Just after Éowyn. Independent women always come first). There will be lots more Éomer in this story and others- Éo means horses.  
  
The wanna be Dwarf: I have the characters down pat? Wow. What a compliment! Thankyou!  
  
*************  
  
The sight of that pony did something to me I've never quite been able to explain. He was more than tremendous strength and speed and beauty of motion. He set me dreaming...  
  
~Walt Morey~  
  
*************  
  
Gimli's mind was reeling. He tried to sort out what had just happened, but to no avail. Somehow in the last five minutes he had become the owner of the perky little bay pony who was standing tugging at the sweet meadow hay piled into the metal rack on the wall. How had that happened? Why had that happened? And most importantly, why had he accepted it? He sighed, and rubbed at his temple with one broad hand. He knew why. He really did, but he did not want to see, did not want to admit it.  
  
There was something about the little pony that stirred Gimli's heart. Something that was not in the tall handsome war-horses like Firefoot, Arod and Hasufel. There was something about the way the stocky little pony eminated loyalty and kindness, whereas Arod and Firefoot eminated strength and power. Gimli felt so much more at ease with Torfi than he had ever felt with any other equine, even after such a short time.  
  
The Dwarf admired Legolas, Éomer and Aragorn for their courage and recklessness in riding horses; the way they swung themselves onto their beast's broad back without even thinking twice, adopting to the pace and needs of the animal without their stomach jolting and their heart clenching in fear. Deep down, he longed for that confidence, that ability. Éomer did not know what it was to look at a horse and feel dominated, Legolas did not understand why galloping at speed was something to tremble about, Aragorn did not realise what it took for Gimli to sit astride a horse. They thought they knew, but they did not.  
  
In return, Gimli did not know what it was to look at a horse with love and respect, did not understand the joy of galloping and feeling the wonderful breeze in his hair, did not realise what it was to borrow the freedom of horses.  
  
But he wanted, longed, needed to know. And now that chance was here.  
  
Slowly, he stepped closer to Torfi, and began to run his thick fingers through the pony's wiry mane. Torfi turned his head to look at his new master, his dark liquid eyes shining with trust. Already, in those few short minutes, Torfi thought of Gimli as a friend. Gimli imagined sitting astride Torfi, looking at those curved pricked ears in front of him, that mane against his hands. Then he thought of the movement of the horse beneath him, and his stomach twisted. Was it excitement? Longing? Or was it fear? A mixture, he guessed. He wanted to ride Torfi, but he was frightened to do so, frightened of destroying his strange new confidence. One day, he swore to himself, one day I will ride alone, across the Riddermark. One day.  
  
But not yet.  
  
"Gimli?"  
  
The Dwarf looked up, and saw Legolas leaning over the door, a smile curving across his fair face. "I think he likes you!"  
  
Gimli went slightly red, and grunted in response, though he was secretly very pleased. Torfi was extremely friendly and he was rubbing his nose against Gimli's shoulder with a force that would have knocked him over had he been anything but a Dwarf. Legolas's smile broadened.  
  
"Éomer wishes to know if you will bring Torfi for a ride with us?" Gimli hesitated.  
  
Not yet. Not yet. One day. Not today. One day. Not yet...  
  
"I... alright."  
  
Fool! he cursed himself. Not yet! Not yet, you said! Fool! Stubborn, prideful fool!  
  
Well, he had done it. He could not go back now, especially when he saw the relief and happiness in Legolas's eyes. "We will set out in a few minutes, elvellon. Éomer is finding Torfi's tack." Gimli nodded, not trusting himself to speak, not wanting to give away his fears.  
  
With a sigh, Gimli bent and picked a brush from a spare bucket he had borrowed. "Come then, hestr*." he murmured, pushing the thick mane over Torfi's neck and began to steadily groom him, bringing out the gleam in his coat, ridding him of the dead hair left over from the winter.  
  
Gimli worked steadily yet efficiently, as is the way of dwarves. Before long, the majority of Torfi's old winter coat lay scattered on the flagstone floor, and his shorter summer coat was shining through, his mane lay flat and untangled across his crest, and his tail no longer resembled one of the stiff brushes used to sweep the barn. As Gimli stood back and admired how his new pony now looked, Éomer's voice came from behind him.  
  
"He looks wonderful already, Gimli."  
  
"Thankyou." Gimli answered, unable to keep the pride from his voice. He turned around just as Éomer slung Torfi's saddle over the wooden door, and lay the bridle across the saddle. Gimli had managed to block out the idea that soon he would be riding. He enjoyed looking after the horses, taking pride in seeing a well-looked after pony, and knowing he was responsible. He shut his eyes momentarily, but Éomer had passed on by then and thankfully did not notice.  
  
Nervously, Gimli picked up Torfi's bridle and inspected it closely with a craftman's eye. It had obviously not been used for quite a while, and the buckles showed sign of rusting and stiffness, but the leather was supple and worn in a way that indicated frequent use once upon a time. He fingered the leather straps for a while, not looking for weaknesses or signs of good craft, but more feeling and sensing it. His fingers expertly ran over the material, noting a weakness in the throatlash where the buckle had been fastened and worn through, and admiring the way the leather passed and bent easily at his gentle touch.  
  
Unable to put it off any longer, Gimli approached Torfi and showed him the bridle. The pony sniffed it for a moment, before looking up at Gimli in apparent disinterest. The Dwarf looped the reins over the pony's neck, before slipping the simple bit into his mouth and pulling the head band behind his ears. Gimli had to admit that it was a pleasant change to be able to tack up a pony, instead of being unable to reach.  
  
Five minutes later, Gimli led Torfi out into the bright, morning sunshine, and the pony lifted his head, flaring his nostrils as he breathed in the crisp, clean air. Then he lifted his head as high as he could, and let out a hoarse, ear-splitting whinny, which echoed over the rolling hills of Rohan. There was a deep chuckle behind them.  
  
"I think he's happy to get out!" Éomer laughed, leading Firefoot up to them. Firefoot had not been ridden for a few days, and pranced beside his master, tossing his head and frisking his tail from side to side. Éomer soothed him quickly, running a hand rythmically down his smooth neck. Then in one fluid movement, the horse-lord put his foot into Firefoot's stirrup, gathered his reins, and swung his leg over the horses back. Gimli turned back to Torfi, biting his lip. Then, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he imitated Éomer's motion, and within seconds, he was sitting astride Torfi's back.  
  
Panic gripped Gimli immediately, and he shut his eyes, breathing slowly and deeply in an attempt to calm himself. This is stupid, he thought angrily, I shouldn't feel like this. His heart continued to race, but slowly his hands ceased their incessant trembling, and he managed to gather the reins properly. He felt very insecure without the reassuring presence of Legolas before him, just an empty space with Torfi's ears flicking. Gimli knew the pony had a short neck, but suddenly it seemed very long indeed.  
  
He became aware of Legolas joining their group, but he could not see him, could not turn his head. His eyes were open, but they did not focus on anything. His vision was blurry, his hearing distant. He heard the murmurs of voices, the creaks of saddle leather, but none of it seemed to penetrate his mind. He was frozen, but the panic was gone. He was lost in a sea of calm, but a tense calm, as that which comes before a storm. Torfi turned his head, and nuzzled Gimli's foot, his eyes friendly and comforting.  
  
Maybe, just maybe, he would be alright.  
  
*************  
  
* Hestr = Horse- an old nordic word. I'm using the Norse language for any dwarvish words I throw in here, as it was obviously used by Tolkien; e.g. Forn is the dwarven name for Tom Bombadil and in the Nordic language it means 'old, ancient'. Very fitting for old Tom.  
  
Anyway, thankyou for reading and I hope you're still enjoying my story and that you are inspired to review. 


	3. Chapter Three

Authors Note: Before anyone asks just what I think I'm doing, let's just say that I have absolutely no idea. Anyway, this story is set a couple of years after the War of the Ring, and is set in Rohan. So, I'm not going to beg for reviews in any way. If you like my story, I hope that you will review, and leave constructive comments which I trust that you will have. If you detest my story and wish that I would go to hell and burn slowly and painfully, then please don't tell me so. I believe that that will happen anyway without you wishing it upon me also.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings, Gimli, Legolas, Éomer, Rohan, or anything else recognisable from Tolkien's work. They all belong to him. He is God. I do, however, own Torfi, which is an old Norse name, and since the Rohirrim are rather Nordic people, and so are Dwarves, I thought the name would be good for that character, who I am rather fond of.  
  
Thankyou for my reviews!  
  
Dot: Wow, you ARE an insightful reader! You've picked up on a lot of things, like Torfi reflecting Gimli's 'inner' character. Well done!  
  
The kid mmd: If it were a book? Alas, I can only dream! But thanks for the compliments- you guys are great!  
  
Moonbeam: How it ends? I don't know yet! Wait and see!  
  
Laurelin: I'm actually surprised at how fast the chapters are coming. But I have a new horse arriving next week so I might not have much time to write. Keep reading though!  
  
Dragon-of-the-North: I am awed by your compliments, seriously. Especially what you say about my portrayal of Legolas. I thank you!  
  
Nimue: Wow. I bow-down to thee, who converted me to slashdom! Thankyou very much for reviewing my work. I have still not decided whether to let Gimli fall... yet! I am still uncertain as to how far I will take this.  
  
*************  
  
The sight of that pony did something to me I've never quite been able to explain. He was more than tremendous strength and speed and beauty of motion. He set me dreaming...  
  
~Walt Morey~  
  
*************  
  
Legolas watched Gimli closely, making sure he was not still frightened. So far, everything was going smoothly. The Dwarf was being quiet, but neither Legolas nor Éomer were worried about that; best to let him concentrate and conquer his fear alone. He was doing very well at the moment, and had gradually relaxed. Legolas noted with surprise Gimli's naturally gentle hands; once he became more confident he had the makings of a very sensitive horseman.  
  
"We will make a rider of you yet!" The Elf's own words came back to him then, and he remembered that they had been spoken in jest, and most probably taken in jest, to make the best of a bad situation.  
  
"It does not seem that I shall have the chance." That had been Gimli's reply. But maybe it had been more than jest. Now Legolas thought back to that night under the trees of Fangorn, the small fire burning down to glowing embers, listening to the faint receeding sounds of their horses hooves, he recalled the strange fire in the Dwarf's eyes. He had noticed it then, but had thought little of it, too troubled by their plight, and had assumed that it was just the reflection of the dying flames.  
  
But it had been something else, he realised now. That same fire had been in Gimli's large almond shaped eyes another time also; when he had spoken of the Glittering Caves. Legolas had recognised the look, but had been unable to place it. Now the two moments clicked together, and Legolas knew what it was. Longing. With a jolt he realised that, all along, Gimli had longed to ride, had longed to be rid of his fear.  
  
With that new realisation, Legolas looked at his dear friend with renewed amazement, and saw that he was now riding with only one hand on the reins, and the other was absent-mindedly caressing Torfi's broad shoulder. That was very good, and a huge step.  
  
Diverting his attention from Gimli for the first time since they had set out about an hour ago, Legolas gazed at the country around him; rolling green hills of lush grass swaying in the cool breeze, the warm sun shining cheerfully in the blue sky above them, the sounds of the horses feet swishing through the grass and the rich smell of their coats. The feeling of the powerful horse beneath him completed heaven for the Elf, but he felt strangely alone without Gimli's strong arms wrapped around his waist and reassuring presence at his back. Legolas realised how much he valued Gimli's being there. He pushed down the feeling, telling himself he was being selfish. He should not, in any way, deprive Gimli of finding his confidence.  
  
"Legolas? Legolas!"  
  
"Wha- what? Oh, Éomer! I'm sorry. I was not paying attention."  
  
"Do not fret," Éomer grinned. "You can admire my beautiful land later. I was asking if you would mind trotting?"  
  
Legolas barely kept his surprise concealed. He looked down at Gimli, and saw that the Dwarf was smiling. A little nervously, true, but he was still smiling. "Trotting?" the Elf asked.  
  
"If you're up to it." Gimli chuckled. Torfi tossed his head with a snort, and Gimli's smile broadened.  
  
Legolas rose to the challenge. "My dear Dwarf, it would be a pleasure to trot without you bouncing around at my back!"  
  
"If I bounce around so much, Master Elf, then I do not think Éomer would allow me to ride one of his steeds alone."  
  
"Gimli, it is common knowledge that Éomer is a little loose in the head, and may be forgiven for allowing poor Torfi to come into your possession."  
  
"Torfi does not seem to agree with you on that point, Legolas." This was true. Torfi was very taken with Gimli, and was positively glaring up at Legolas as though he knew that the Elf had insulted his Master. Legolas could find no comeback.  
  
"I think I won that." Gimli announced, patting Torfi happily.  
  
"If," Éomer began impatiently. "You have both finished your bickering, could we commence the proposed trot, please?"  
  
Legolas sniffed, turning up his nose with mocking pride. "Of course, Éomer King. That is, if Gimli is prepared to cease being as insufferably rude as to answer back to myself as such." He flashed the Dwarf a sparkling grin, to show that no offense was meant. Gimli harrumphed impatiently, though his eyes twinkled.  
  
Éomer rolled his eyes at their familiar antics before urging Firefoot forward. The skittish stallion performed a quick skip and buck, with a 'look at me!' swish of his tail, before settling into the rythm of his trot. Éomer sat the horse's prance easily, with a firm and silent correction as he capered. Legolas would normally have laughed at this, and teased Éomer for being unable to control his horses, but this time he did not. The worry he carried which had eased during his quick arguement with Gimli had returned, and he looked down at the Dwarf. He looked slightly paler than usual, despite his natural tan, but there was hard determination in his eyes.  
  
Legolas murmured softly to Arod, persuading him to keep back so Legolas could keep an eye on Gimli. A part of the Elf told him he was being over- protective, and coddling the Dwarf far too much, but another part said that Gimli was insecure and if anything happened he would blame himself for not keeping a close enough watch on him. Ignoring the conflicting sides of his conscience, Legolas watched as Gimli nudged Torfi into a trot. The little pony had a smooth, bumbling pace, that seemed very comfortable. Legolas allowed himself to breath.  
  
Oddly enough, Gimli seemed more at ease than Legolas would have believed. Urging Arod to trot beside Torfi, Legolas saw that the grit determination had not left Gimli's face, and he had his hands wrapped tightly in Torfi's mane. Legolas felt nothing but warm admiration for his friend just then.  
  
Looking up, Legolas tossed aside the curtain of brown hair that had fallen into his eyes, and called ahead to Éomer to slow down. The Horse-Lord only laughed, and carried on at his own pace, after looking behind to make sure his companions were all right.  
  
"How pleasant." Gimli snorted. Despite the tenseness in his voice, the Dwarf sounded quite himself. He looked up and met Legolas's startled gaze then, just as the Elf realised what he meant to do and had given a rather inelegant exclamation, his friend turned back to Torfi, and urged him forward into a rolling excuse for a canter.  
  
Legolas had barely enough time to collect his wits, and bring his jaw back up to it's proper position before Arod had taken off after Torfi, an expression of deep annoyance that the short, hairy creature was now in front of him. Legolas laughed and warned Arod not to show off, telling him he had to need to display his superior speed and strength, since it was known already.  
  
All the way, Gimli's sudden laughter echoed in Legolas's ears.  
  
************* I know I could have made this chapter a lot more interesting but I couldn't bear to be nasty to Gimli! Anyway, I finished this today, and my new charge arrived. He's young and nervous, and needs breaking in so I won't have that much time. However, I hope to make this more dramatic.  
  
Anyway, thankyou for reading and I hope you're still enjoying my story and that you are inspired to review. 


End file.
